M P Pratheesh: Water

വെള്ളം /ഈ കൈകളിലേക്ക് നോക്കൂ, അദൃശ്യമാണ് ഉള്ളിലൊഴുകുന്ന നദികൾ.ചോരയും അതിന്റെ പാതകളും. ഈ ഇരുണ്ട നിറമുള്ള ഇലകളുമതെ.കൈവെള്ള എല്ലാം ഓർമ്മിയ്ക്കുന്നുണ്ട്. ചോരയേയും മുറിവിനേയുംവെള്ളത്തേയും. മുറിവ് ചോരയെ കാട്ടിത്തന്നു. ഇലകൾ മുറിവായകൾകൂട്ടിത്തുന്നിയുറക്കി. കൈകൾ ഉടലുകളിൽ തൊട്ടു. എല്ലാം ഈ വെള്ളത്തിൽകലരുന്നു. എല്ലാ മുറിവുകളും ഉണങ്ങുന്നു. കവിതാവസ്തുക്കൾ: മനുഷ്യശരീരം, ‘വെള്ളം’ എന്ന് അച്ചടിച്ച കടലാസു തുണ്ട്,മുറികൂട്ടിച്ചെടി (Hemigraphis alternata)യുടെ ഇല.~ Translation: Water /Look at my palm, the rivers flowing in are invisible. Blood andContinue reading “M P Pratheesh: Water”

Pragya Suman: Red Poppies of Vincent

Auvers is red and red, as red poppies are seekers of infinite sleep and petals are still in closed fist. A master stroke of impressionist splutters the infinite cerulean sky. One day petals would kiss a painter’s brush.When Vincent’s fingers tighten, poppie’s petals look lax.Look, green yews are gazing, the revelation is standing at theContinue reading “Pragya Suman: Red Poppies of Vincent”

Alicia Hayden: When the Whale Sang/ The Whale’s Song

It sounds a bit like the feeling of watching honey seep through milk. A thick, luxurious, gorgeous sound.A feeling of deep reverberations, which echo through a vast, vastamphitheatre. But his stage, once packed with kaleidoscope fish and pastel coral, is an empty shell.A hollow vessel. So, he moves on. And sings to the ocean –Continue reading “Alicia Hayden: When the Whale Sang/ The Whale’s Song”


The streetcake innovative writing prize is open for submissions until September 20th! We caught up with streetcake editor, Nikki Dudley, to find out more about the prize, submissions process, and mentoring: What is the streetcake innovative writing prize?  streetcake is an online magazine that specialises in experimental/innovative poetry, visual poetry and short fiction. The streetcake innovativeContinue reading “STREETCAKE INNOVATIVE WRITING PRIZE”

Cat Woodward: Under the light of the moon a lone rabbit passes through the graveyard of poets

Black human eyes, wet and rockingin their nests of dry grass.The white moon is not a symbol,the moon is a coin they pass aroundand around. So, their blue tongues and handsgrow tired of making to her their signs,they recline into the earth, who spits them up againas grass.The blood is a red beadwhere the tipContinue reading “Cat Woodward: Under the light of the moon a lone rabbit passes through the graveyard of poets”

Richard Capener: The Enochian Alphabet

Earlier this year, SOBER magazine invited me to write an essay for their blog, HAIR OF THE DOG, to explore the avant-garde’s relationship to intermedia. I began to look at different origin myths of language alongside the recorded history of writing. On looking at the Book of Enoch, I was reminded that the fallen angels, among other things, taught metallurgy. WhenContinue reading “Richard Capener: The Enochian Alphabet”